Never More than Strangers
by OffCenterFold
Summary: A one shot in response to a challenge from long ago.  A chance encounter one dark night leaves a lasting impression in addition to being a turning point in Himura Battousai's life.  Implied one-sided attraction.  Violence.  Dialogue direct from the manga.


[AN] In a forum for non-canon pairings, several years ago someone laid out the following challenge:

_"I challenge someone to write a one-sided KenshinXAkira fic. It must deal with their one and only battle, and therefore must include Akira's death scene. It must be one-shot. It must be in first-person, but you choose which of them to use as your "I." It must be one-sided, meaning only one of them is attracted to the other, not both, but you choose which one is attracted to which. It should be serious and on the dark side._

_I have thrown down the gauntlet! Apr 03rd 2006, 4:59am"_

I have picked up your gauntlet, the_sacred_night. I hope that this meets with your approval, should you read this. May you enjoy it, and may you not be the only one. [/AN]

Never More than Strangers

_The first year of Genji, the Western year of 1864. Kyoto. A shadow shifted in the night. Moving silently and certainly, he followed his quarry. His prey. There were three of them, the men he'd been sent to kill that night. _

I must think of them only as prey. Two of them were no different from the shogunate men I've encountered on an almost nightly basis. But the third... There was something different about him. I could hear their conversation; they were concerned about the rumors they'd been hearing. Rumors about me. I can appreciate the irony.

Then the older man - the target, Shigekura Juubei - decided it was time to change the subject, to focus on brighter things. He was congratulating the younger of his bodyguards on his upcoming wedding. He says something about feeling bad, being happy in such a chaotic world.

It was a shame, really. The young man was very attractive. His bride would likely never know what happened to him. And to make matters worse, it was happiness like that which I was fighting to protect.

I never think of the targets as people if I can help it. I try not to notice their appearance, their conversations, nothing that would make them seem anything more than animals. But the young man, closest to me in age, is not like the others. A strong will to live is not unusual, in and of itself, and I have slain many such men. But he is different.

And worse, he is a man. Young and attractive, but a man nonetheless. I am aware of women, of course, though none have caught my eye. I have never thought of another man in such a light. It does not seem unnatural to me, in and of itself, save that I could not afford to care for any one person. There is only the new era and the people themselves.

These are troubling thoughts, and I shove them from from my mind. It's only been a few months since I began taking lives in the name of a new era, but there is none who doubt my skill. Such thoughts will not serve.

_A shadow shifted, separated itself from its fellows. Spoke._

"Stop right there." My voice is low and level. "Whatever shape the world is in, there's nothing wrong with a man seeking a bit of happiness. In fact, these people who want to create a 'new era' ought to seek more peace and happiness themselves." Only now do they turn and notice me. "You are official Shigekura Juubei of Kyoto?" Now i was sure they saw me. They saw death facing them. "I have no personal grudge against you... But you must die for the new era."

I could see them better now as well. There was the large bodyguard, a rough-looking sort of the type who was often more bluff than master of any real skill. He was the man who demanded to know my identity. So I told them.

"Choushuu Ishin Shishi... Himura Battousai." It was the last name they would ever hear, so why not? Even if it was a name that was not truly me. It was the name that was known. And of course, my target. A small man in stature, he cowered behind the larger bodyguard. But he shoved the other behind him, the young man. He was protecting him. I could not react to that; already my sword was in motion, leaping to kiss the skull of the first guard. He was my target. I would grant him the honor of dying by more than just an ordinary strike. He had tried, futilely, to protect his own guard. He deserved something for that, at least.

"Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu, Ryuutsuisen-zan!" Even before I completed the battle-cry, I descended from the heavens to wreak justice upon him. Tenchuu, judgment from the heavens, was the message left on the bodies of those who were assassinated by the side for which I fought. It would be left on these bodies as well, once my work was done. I thought it was fitting, to fall upon this man from above. It was not my decision who I killed, but I could grant him the swiftness his kindness had earned him.

And then it was just the two of us. Kiyosato, who couldn't have been much older than I was, stood his ground. I faced him, and the world slowed.

He was panicked, and rightfully so. "Ishijisan! Shigekurasan!" I looked at him, and understanding flashed into his eyes.

Once again, he saw only death. What a good looking man. What a will to live.

I encountered it as his sword came up to block mine.

Block mine?

_He was sweating though the night was cool. He could not take his eyes from the bloody sword scant inches from his face. His back was to the wall, and not just literally. He knew himself to be no great swordsman; under normal circumstances, he could hold his own but he had never counted on this. And the expression of his redheaded opponent never changed._

I was impressed. He carried himself like an indifferent swordsman, probably competent enough in a dojo but with his life on the line, it was clear to me that his strength was his desperation. "Give up," I told him. He was dead, and we both knew it. I hated to see the terror on his face. I always did, but to see it on his face was worse, somehow. Maybe it was that he was close to my own age.

Maybe it was that he was such a beautiful young man.

Or perhaps it was simply the sheer force of will that drove him. "N...NOOO!" he cried out in protest, and his blade came up to push mine away. I could see it in his eyes. I could almost hear his thoughts as though he spoke them.

_~I can't die. I don't want to die. I will not die!~ The fear was not gone, but now the young bodyguard's eyes held anger. He attacked, emotion driving his blade, keeping the assassin on the defensive. It couldn't last, this reprieve he had been granted, but all he had was will._

I had the skill. It would not be long. I could feel it; his will was not faltering but his arm was. He took one more desperate lunge, which I countered easily.

Or so I thought, until an oddly unfamiliar sensation blossomed across my face. Pain. I had known pain before, and taken wounds in battle. But against an opponent such as him?

_The tableau was not unusual for the time: three men lay in spattered pools of their own blood, a slight figure standing over them. Crimson reflected off his blade and his hair._

I reached up, shocked. There was blood on my fingers as I took them away from my left cheek. I was bleeding. This man, young and desperate and unskilled, had scored a hit! He had cut me!

Such a little scratch, long but not deep, should not hurt so much. And then I heard a sound behind me. He was moving. That attack should have killed him.

"I... don't... want to die... I'm... going to be... married... I thought... I'd be able... to love you..."

Why did I suddenly wish he would say my name? He was dead.

"Tomoe..."

I plunged my sword into his heart. I felt it in my own. What was it about him that was so different?

It did not matter. Nothing mattered; our lives were irrelevant. I fought to protect the people as a whole. My own life did not matter. The lives of the people I slew were not their own any more than mine was. It was the ideals, the politics, the formation of a new era that mattered.

I felt the blood dripping down my face.

"We have witnessed your skills," said one of the two whose place it was to do so. I turned, cleaning and sheathing the sword that was the tool of my trade.

"Thank you for fulfilling your duties." The men who would ensure that our message was clear nodded. Tenchuu. It was divine will; the emperor must be restored to his rightful place.

"Your cheek's been -"

"Its nothing." I cut him off, not allowing my own inner turmoil to show. That was always the way things were. I never let my feelings show; I had learned that long ago.

"But... this man must have been quite a swordsman... to injure the great Himura..."

"No. His skill was nothing." Not much of a lie; his skills alone would not have been any sort of a match for me. "But his desperation to live..." Such a waste of a powerful soul, "...was terrible." I turned to walk away. "Please take care of the rest."

I heard them begin to go about their end of the business.

Tenchuu. The note would rest atop Shigekura's body. But it was Kiyosato's over whom they stood; Kiyosato who loved a woman named Tomoe. Whose spirit had captured my attention. His life was over but his hold on me was not.

Without turning my body, I looked back towards him. "Please achieve happiness... in your next life..." I thought I said it softly but the blood was beginning to pound in my ears. Now my heart began to race and my stomach tightened. Still, I kept walking away.

"Hm? Did you say something?" I wasn't sure which of them asked the question. I didn't particularly care.

"No. Nothing," I said in what I hoped was a normal tone. I could still hear them talking.

"'Desperation to live,' eh? He must be a great fighter, to sense that from just crossing swords."

"Mm," the other agreed. "But... Knowing that... Would you be able to do this without even changing your expression? He truly is... a Hitokiri."

His words clung to my ears, burrowing their way inside, eating at my soul. I paid them no heed. Like the dead body of the beautiful young man who was nothing to me, who never could have been anything to me, I let them be buried in the darkness of the Kyoto night.


End file.
